


Bigger on the Outside

by hyperborean_quaintrelle



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: AU, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Demisexual Bucky, Little!Bucky - Freeform, M/M, Omega Bucky Barnes, Past Rape/Non-con, Pining, Recovery, Regency, Slow Burn, Top Steve Rogers, bucky is a sweet boy, bucky likes soft things, cause he's a soft boy, demiromantic bucky, duke!steve, marquess!bucky, regency au, rumlow is a creep surprise surprise, slight dash of angst, steve helps bucky heal, sub bucky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-30 10:52:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17827205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyperborean_quaintrelle/pseuds/hyperborean_quaintrelle
Summary: Sometimes people are small but mighty, others are only bigger on the outside.





	1. The Ball

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raynaki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raynaki/gifts).



When Bucky walked into the Rumlow’s ballroom he drew more than a few stares. He was pushing six foot three and weighed almost 15 stone, on top of the fact that his face and pale blue eyes always gained him a second look- from males and females alike.  But inevitably the females looked away because they caught his scent and he was exposed-  _ omega.  _ Most of the males turned away as well because they had no use for an omega who looked like him. 

 

It didn’t matter, it shouldn’t have mattered because he was already betrothed. Alexander Pierce, his late father’s advisor, had arranged the match soon after he’d been brought from Russia. Still grieving the loss of his mother who had died suddenly of pneumonia he hadn’t put up any arguments. He’d simply signed the papers and went back to bed. 

 

Now he was here, alone, and unsure of what to do. Did he seek out his betrothed? Did he stay put until Pierce found him? While he was debating what to do, because debating with himself seemed to be his most common activity nowadays, he caught sight of a man. Small, slight, and utterly beautiful. He was dancing with a female, taller than he and beautiful in a classical way. Bucky watched with rapt attention- the small male was blonde and had the most beautiful blue eyes. And soon those blue eyes found Bucky’s when the man sensed he was being watched. When the dance ended Bucky was shocked and somewhat panicked to see the man approaching him.

 

“Is there a reason you were staring at me?” The man’s voice was all spitfire and righteous indignation. “What, you’ve never seen an alpha my size before? Answer me.”

 

Bucky could feel the blush spreading across his cheeks as he tried to stammer out a response. “I- well, you see.. I didn’t mean- didn’t mean any disrespect.” And wasn’t that just the summary of his life? He looked calm and collected and powerful but honestly the minute someone spoke to him he dissolved into a bumbling fool. The small man, the alpha (and now that Bucky could smell him, he knew that this was a powerful alpha at that) just looked at him. Not with disdain or worse a sick fascination like most alpha’s did, but a simply curious glance. 

 

“Steven Grant Rogers. But you can call me Steve.” The man- Steve, spoke after a long moment of just sizing Bucky up. He knew his cheeks must be bright red and he knew a man his size blushing looked ridiculous but he couldn’t help it. 

 

“James Buchanan Barnes. Please, call me James.” At least that he could get out with some semblance of confidence. It had been drilled into him by Alexander since he’d arrived.  _ Always introduce yourself as a Barnes. None of that tainted Russian blood needs to be known by anyone.  _

 

He wanted to say ‘call me Bucky,’ something he told the one friend he’d made since coming to england. But something deep down in him wanted to say ‘call me Yasha.’ The nickname made him feel warm inside, it was filled with memories of his time in Russia before… before. 

 

“Would you like to dance, James?” And Steve was smiling, warmly. Not smirking at Bucky in that condescending way that made his skin crawl. Just smiling. 

 

“I would- that would be, yes.” Steve, by some strange miracle was still smiling. He held out a hand and waited- leaving the choice up to Bucky. 

 

It was the first time an alpha had ever let him have a choice. 

 

He only hesitated a moment to place his hand in Steve’s, and he didn’t even notice how his hand dwarfed the other man’s. He only saw Steve’s smile.

  
  
  
  
  


Steve looked up at James and couldn’t help the grin that wouldn’t go away. The bigger man was adorable, and the shy smile he aimed at Steve made Steve want to cuddle him. Quite aggressively. With many blankets and maybe a nice warm fire. But now they would dance. Steve lead James to the dance floor and raised the hand he held, placing his other on James’ waist. James placed his other hand on Steve’s shoulder and seemed to be trying to shrink in on himself. Steve wanted to tell the man it didn’t matter how big he was, but he guessed James wouldn’t want to talk about something he was so clearly self conscious about. 

 

The music for the waltz started up and then they were dancing. Despite the few times were James tripped over his own feet, most likely over thinking every step, it felt like they were floating. Steve lead them gracefully and James followed him with an elegance that took Steve’s breath away. 

 

When the music finally stopped Steve didn’t pull away. He just stood there for a moment looking at this giant in his arms who was blushing so prettily under his gaze. Something about this omega just made Steve’s instincts scream  _ protect  _ but James wasn’t his to protect. And he would respect that. 

 

Finally he let his hand drop from James’ waist and stepped away. James opened his mouth to say something when a voice made his mouth close with an audible click and his shoulders curled in again.

 

“There you are, James. And who is this?” An elder man walked up to them and laid a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Steve immediately disliked him not because of the way he seemed to accept Bucky’s attempt to shrink himself as the proper course of action, but because of the subtle way Bucky flinched when he was touched. 

 

“Steven Rogers, The Duke of Avington.” Steve inclined his head ever so slightly knowing there was slim to little chance that the man outranked him. 

 

“Alexander Pierce, advisor to the late Marquess. I see you’ve met the successor to the Marquess of Belmonte's title.” Pierce’s eyes moved between Steve and James in a way that made Steve think he’d been watching for longer than he let on. 

 

“You two seem to be getting along well, I’ll just go handle some business. James, we’ll be leaving together at the conclusion of the ball. Wait in the carriage for me if I’m not already outside.” 

 

James just nodded his eyes glued to the floor and the tension in his large frame palpable. When Pierce finally left after a final lingering glance, Steve hoped to offer some kind of comfort to the omega, but James suddenly bowed respectfully.

 

“Apologies, Your Grace. I should have used your proper title before.” Steve sighed. This is what he’d been hoping to avoid by simply telling the omega his name and not title. 

 

“Rise, James. Please. Call me Steve. That’s what I introduced myself to you as, you’ve made no mistake.” Steve spoke quietly, painfully aware of how many were trying to listen in on their conversation. No matter how much he was looked down on for being an alpha of his size, his title protected him for the most part. He had the feeling that Marquesate did not protect James from much. 

 

James stood and flushed, but this time Steve took no pleasure in it because it was the result of a particularly loud whisper nearby. 

 

“ _ That’s  _ the omega? What a waste of that body of his…” The voice, which was close enough to be heard but far away enough not to be recognizable, dropped back down to a volume easily swallowed up by quartet’s music. 

 

James only muttered a hasty ‘excuse me, Your Grace’ before disappearing out onto the balcony. Steve wanted to follow but knew he would only draw more attention to James. It didn’t take much to deduce that was the last thing the omega would want. 

 

So instead of running after James, he stayed. He socialized and prayed that the omega would be alright. And if he spent most of the night thinking of ways for them to meet again? There was no harm in that. 


	2. Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky get's a note.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has some emotional abuse in it so if that's too much for you, and believe me, I get it, pls don't read. also, I'm the one writing this and I still wanted to cry cause Bucky's my baby :(

Bucky stayed on the balcony for at least an hour, trying to breathe through the utter mortification that had flooded his system. 

 

**_That’s_ ** _ the omega? _

 

The words weren’t new, they’d been spoken hundreds of time during his life with many creative iterations, but they still cut him to the quick. He had left before he could see the look on Steve’s face. He didn’t want to find out if the duke’s kindness could withstand the first of many comments like it. 

 

Because for once, he had found someone to dance with. 

 

Dancing with Steve was like dancing on air. Even when he fell, his large body clumsy next to the blonde’s effortless grace, Steve just kept them moving to the music easy as can be. 

 

And when the music stopped and they had come to a stop Steve had just looked at him. It felt like he was being thoroughly seen for the first time in a long time. But then Pierce had come and Bucky just  _ knew  _ that look in his eyes. He saw their coffers filled to bursting if he could just ensure the duke’s interest in Bucky. It was the same look he’d had when he’d told Bucky about the offer of marriage from the Earl Rumlow. 

 

Bucky just sighed, and hoped Steve wouldn’t be caught in Pierce’s web.

 

By the time Bucky stepped back into the ballroom, Steve was nowhere to be found. Bucky wasn’t sure if he was grateful or disappointed. On one hand, at least he wouldn’t have to see the pity on Steve’s face after he’d run away like a coward. On the other hand, he wouldn’t get to see Steve’s smile again if by some miracle he still wanted anything to do with Bucky. 

 

Either way, he headed down the main staircase to go wait in the carriage like he’d been instructed- keeping his head down and just trying to get to his destination. But a hand stopped him just before he reached the doors. 

 

“For you, sir.” One of the butlers of the house was holding out a piece of folded paper to him, and Bucky took it after a moment of utter confusion. The butler bowed and went about his business leaving Bucky staring after him with the note in his hand. 

He walked out the door slower this time as he turned the note over in his hand, and it felt like his heart started to beat a little faster when he saw a seal with an embellished A imprinted in the wax. Steve was the Duke of Avington. Was it unreasonable to hope that the note was from Steve?

 

When he stepped into the carriage the note was snatched out of his hands before he even got the chance to open it. 

 

“And what’s this?” Pierce was sitting on the seat across from him and Bucky felt his hope turn to ash on his tongue. It didn’t matter who it was from, now. Pierce would find some way to warp it to his advantage. “From the duke? Oh this is marvelous.” The grin that twisted Pierces lips made Bucky want to shrink away. But he had learned the hard way since arriving in the strange land that to do so only egged Pierce on. 

 

“ _ To James, _

_ I do hope I won’t offend you when I say you are by far the most adorable dancer I’ve had the pleasure of partnering with. If you are willing, it would be my pleasure to invite you to the ball I’m hosting at my estate in a week’s time. And, if I may be so bold, I’d like to claim your first dance of the evening- should you attend.  _

 

_ I look forward to your response, _

_ Steve” _

 

_ “ _ Well isn’t that just charming.” After reading the note aloud, his mocking tone making it hard for Bucky to appreciate the sweet words, Pierce crumpled the note and tossed it to the floor of the carriage. “You’ll attend of course. And you will dance with him. I’ve already taken care of the engagement with the Earl, a duke is a much better catch- even one as pathetic as Avington.”

 

“He’s not- he’s not pathetic.” Bucky’s voice shook, as it always seemed to do every time he tried to speak up against his late father’s advisor. 

 

“What was that?” Pierce’s voice was dangerously soft and Bucky bit the inside of his cheek until it bled to stop himself from whimpering. The carriage filled with the sharp scent of his fear and Pierce just smiled. “He’s almost as pathetic as you, you bumbling oaf. But luckily he has a title to make up for his inadequacies. What do you have? Just that gash between your legs and your pretty face.” 

 

Bucky said nothing and wished, not for the first time, that things could go back to the way they were. He wished his mother hadn’t died and left him with no other choice but to heed the summons from a father he’d never known. He wished his father hadn’t died shortly after he’d arrived, leaving him to the mercy of Pierce who saw the late Marquess’ son as simply a half Russian bastard. 

 

But his wishing changed nothing. 

 

“You will do everything in your power to keep the duke’s attention, do I make myself clear? It’s the least you could do ever since your whore of a mother lured your father away from his wife and left him without a proper heir. Now I don’t want to see you again until it’s time for the duke’s ball.” Pierce sneered and stepped out of the carriage once it arrived at their modest estate. He walked inside the manor, barking orders at the terrified staff, leaving Bucky in the carriage. 

 

When his heart finally stopped pounding against his chest in fear and he could actually breathe again, he reached down to pick up the crumpled note and shoved it in his pocket- irrationally afraid Pierce would somehow know he had kept it and would punish him for it. 

 

But tense seconds passed, and he was safe. 

 

Finally exiting the carriage Bucky thanked the driver and walked to his rooms in the far west wing of the house. It was the oldest part of the house and his room had a draft, there was a leak in the ceiling every time it rained, but it was his room. Pierce never ventured here and Bucky could do as he pleased. 

 

He lit a few candles until the dim glow allowed him to see, more or less, where everything was. He was still getting used to the room and had bumped into a chair or a bureau more than once in the dark. 

 

He walked to the armoire and pulled out the trunk he’d brought with him from Russia, a small tattered thing that was almost as old as he, but his mother had bought him. So he cherished it.

 

_ One day, your father will send for us, and you’ll need a proper trunk.  _

 

His mother had always held onto the belief that his father, who had come to Russia while on his travels and made all sorts of promises to his new mistress, would realize that he loved her. And that in that realization he would send for them both and they would live happily ever after. No longer stuck in a small cottage barely scraping by as Bucky worked day after day until his slim omega’s body ended up as big as some of the alpha’s he worked with. 

 

But that day had never come, and his mother had died waiting. 

 

He kept all his most treasured belongings in the trunk. A photograph of him and his mother when he still looked like a proper omega, a pretty rock he’d found while working in the mines he’d brought home to his mother as a gift, and his journals. They couldn’t often afford to buy paper, but when they could he would write as small as he could so he could use each page for as long as possible. Sometimes he’d have to paint newspaper white when they had nothing else. He wrote stories and he wrote his nightmares, his dreams. His journals were everything to him. 

 

Now Bucky took out the crumpled up note from his pocket and tried to smooth out the wrinkles, tucking it between the pages of his most recent journal. He found a pencil and added a note on the next page before closing the journal and preparing for bed. 

 

When he finally blew out the candles and got beneath the duvet, the words he’d written made him smile to himself in the dark.

 

_ I got a note today, from a man named Steve. He gave me a choice, and he danced with me.  _


End file.
